


Angles

by telperion_15



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-29
Updated: 2010-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Lots of things make more sense when you come at them from a different angle, John.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angles

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: John/Sherlock, upside down.

“That book is upside down,” John observed.

“It makes more sense this way,” Sherlock replied, not raising his eyes.

John paused, and then decided it wasn’t worth getting into a debate over. For all he knew, books really _did_ make more sense to Sherlock when they were the wrong way up. Or perhaps it was written in a language _designed_ to be read upside down. John had certainly never heard of such a thing, but he wouldn’t have been surprised to find out from Sherlock that there were several languages of that kind in the world.

So instead, he merely said, “All right,” and went into the kitchen to make some tea.

It wasn’t until he was pouring the boiling water over the teabags, that Sherlock spoke again. From right behind him.

“Lots of things make more sense when you come at them from a different angle, John.”

John jumped, and only just managed to stop the contents of the kettle from spilling all over the worktop. “Christ, Sherlock, can you _not_ sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry,” said Sherlock, not sounding it in the slightest. “But pay attention, John. Lots of things…”

“…make more sense from a different angle,” John finished for him. “I heard you the first time.” He carefully topped up the mugs of tea, set the kettle down, and then turned around, finding that Sherlock was indeed _right_ behind him, leaving John very little personal space. “What _are_ you talking about, Sherlock?”

“Well, consider, for example, us,” Sherlock said.

“What about ‘us’?”

“We’re flatmates. Colleagues. Friends.” The expression on Sherlock’s face told John that that last word was an unfamiliar one to the other man.

“Yes, and…?” John said, wondering where all this was going.

“But there are other ways to view two men who spend nearly all their time together, who co-habit, who socialise, who…”

“We don’t socialise, Sherlock, we get into trouble,” John pointed out. Then his brain caught up with what Sherlock had said. “Wait, what?”

“You’re always at pains to make sure people realise we are not a couple,” Sherlock continued, sounding faintly amused, “but why do you think people always assume that?”

“Sherlock, hang on a minute…”

“Because they see us in a different way. And after all, their conclusions aren’t really so ridiculous.”

“Sherlock, I’ve already told you that I’m not…”

“Different angles, John,” said Sherlock. Then, to John’s utter astonishment, he leaned down and kissed John quickly on the lips. “Just give them some thought.”

Sherlock had disappeared by the time John could do more than gape stupidly and make a few inarticulate noises of surprise, but eventually he unfroze and raised a hand to his mouth. Sherlock’s kiss had been hardly more than a peck, so why did John’s lips still feel like they were tingling, and why did he still imagine he could taste Sherlock on them?

He stood still for a couple more moments, thoughts and ideas and arguments chasing each other around his head, and then made an abrupt, and possibly extremely stupid, decision.

“Oh, sod it,” he muttered, and left the kitchen in search of Sherlock.


End file.
